Tuesday, July 17, 2012

a day in the life of grief

last summer: Booie at work with her new niece Lena

Things are so much quieter this week than last week. The extended family dispersed slowly after Saturday, Elliott returned to work in Sicily, my grandparents drove home to Missouri, the visits from friends are tapering off. The five remaining members of my family are all at home: Eric, Emily, and Daddy are taking time off work; Lena and I are here until next Monday; and my mom is savoring all of us being at home. We are muddling through, grieving the lost in the land of the living.

I wrote this email to Elliott last night after our first day alone as a family. He thought it captured well what life is like for us now and what we are feeling.

***

Dearest boy of mine,

Well, another day is done. It was the first
without you in awhile, and I missed you.... I am so glad you are back safe and sound,
but I wish we didn't have to endure separation in this time.

We finished Anne of Green Gables tonight. So good, and such a blessed distraction. My parents were visiting Prince Edward Island when they got the news about Booie. I do want to
see it with you, so we'll see if my family is ready to part with it so
that I can bring it back with me. If not then, then in October. I am
sure we'll start Anne of Avonlea tomorrow or the day after.

My mom and I took a walk with Lena this afternoon. Lena was being
so fussy and grouchy and I think it was because she had been cooped up
inside for so long. We walked down the street and then decided to go to
the cemetery and visit Booie's grave. It was an easy 10-minute walk; my mom
showed me a new cut-through that's safer than the one I've used with
Sona [our dog who died in March] in the past to go visit Kim [Roe]'s grave. (Now there are two more
graves to visit on that hill--Booie's and Emily Roe's--and no Sona to walk with.) It was a
little sad to see Booie's grave, with the dry brownish-red dirt on top
of it and the faded flowers, somewhat dirty stuffed animals, and little
trinkets people had left. Someone had put an orchid there, and I
suggested my mom take it home and love it, as it will die in a couple of
days in this sun, but she wanted to leave it there. We spent awhile
sitting and talking about grief--"is there a difference between grieving
and wallowing?" my mom asked--and then walked over to Kim and Emily's
graves (just about 20 feet apart) and then down the hill a little bit.
Lena was soo delighted as she walked down the pavement in her little
bare feet. She loved the downhill slope because she could get some
speed up and was babbling delightedly to us, excitedly pointing out
squirrels, and so glad to be outside and walking around. We'll have to
come back with her, of course.

I took a trip to Safeway to get some stuff for my family this
evening: bananas, Mini Wheats, Diet Coke, etc. I sort of forgot that
Booie worked in that Safeway. Driving up in the car she used to
drive, walking past the Starbucks in the store where she used to work (where I came
for her drinks last summer), and wandering down the aisles she used to
walk down in her uniform... it was a little sadder than I'd expected. I
got very introspective and sad on the way home, as I did last night
while driving home from dropping you off at the airport. I guess I'm rarely alone now and
haven't been that quietly reflective or allowed myself to just think about
her, about what we're missing, about life without her, about what she
would be doing if she were right here right now, about what she would be
saying about this song on the radio, about what she would have
just eaten or just sang or just done. I drove by her grave on my own on
the way home (partly because Em was out on a run when I left and I
wanted to comfort her there if she was there) and just sat in the car
for a moment alone and stared at the grave. How could this all have
happened so fast? How could my little sister be under the ground
there? How could those already-wilted flowers be on Booie's
grave?

Sad thoughts for a Monday night. We have such ups and downs. Just a
few minutes ago I could hear Eric laughing downstairs with my parents as he related a story; meanwhile Em and I were dangling my
piece of dental floss for the cat and laughing at her antics. Life is so normal
sometimes, and yet so broken and foreign and unbelievable. How will we
carry on? What will we look like in 3 weeks, 9 months, 2 years? Will
we still be cheerful, still be close, still be deeply and patiently and
trustingly reliant upon Christ, every one of us? Will we be worse or
better for this terrible, wearing trial? What will we be as a family,
as individuals, as friends, as future and current spouses, as
Christians? I have so many fears and hopes, all tangled together, as I
pray for goodness to come out of this horrible sadness.

Please keep praying and praying. We need it
more than ever. God helped us set such a good tone last week for our
family, each other, the memorial service, our friends, and for Booie.
Now we need to set a good tune for ourselves for the rest of our lives.
"Good tune" sounds so trite, but we must go on, somehow, and we want to go on well.

8 comments:

Oh Becca…I hurt so much for you and your family. Your writing is so heartfelt and so beautiful…and it makes me cry and cry and cry. I am praying and will continue to pray for all of you.Marsha Montague

It is remarkable how strong you are. Thank you, so much, for letting us grieve with you. I know this isn't easy for you, and at times it may not feel like you are strong, but I know that you are surrounded by family that will support you (as you support them) and help you through this.

Dear Becca: I have never met your family, but our children swim with the Frogs so we learned of Julia's passing and have mourned her loss from afar. As it turns out, your dad and I work in the same building. I dropped him a note one day last week to let him know that we are holding your family up in prayer and today, he sent me a link to your blog. I've read through your archives and I'm confident that you will carry on with amazing grace and courage. The commitment, devotion and faith that your family possesses is truly an inspiration. Julia is so blessed to have you; and you to have her. May you always feel her loving energy surround and strengthen you.